


The First NoAl

by justcallmeasmodeus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Arthur Ketch - Freeform, Kendricks, Ketchmas, Mick Davies - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 17:39:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17248562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justcallmeasmodeus/pseuds/justcallmeasmodeus
Summary: Mick will do anything to keep from losing his best friend, but at what cost in the end?





	The First NoAl

The blood seeped from the wound, slowly dripped down Alexander’s shirt, over Arthur’s hand, and on to the old hardwood floor. It was hot and sticky, nothing like Arthur imagined it would be. Arthur looked up, meeting Alexander’s gaze. He found his own fear mirrored in the wide hazel eyes. Alexander reached out grabbed Arthur’s forearm, his mouth opening as a drop of blood oozed out of the corner. Arthur sat upright, beads of sweat on his forehead, his heart hammering in his chest. He looked to his left, the empty bed a constant reminder that the last two hours were more than a dream gone sour. He threw the covers back with shaking hands and pulled on his robe, his restless legs taking him far away from his empty bedroom.

The hallway was dimly lit by the garland on the wall, one of the few reminders of the upcoming holiday. Snow fell quietly outside and Arthur stopped to watch it, willing his mind blank like the landscape outside. He turned towards the kitchen, making his way through the study for a glass of water when he noticed a light on at a table in the back and a familiar head of hair bent over an open book.

“Another all nighter Mick?” He called out as he approached. Mick jumped, his pen falling to the floor as he slid the book over his notepad.

“Arthur! You should be in bed.”

“So should you. I thought you were done with your testing?” 

“I am. I’m just working out the last few kinks in this spell.”  
“More extra credit? You’re already top of your class.” Arthur raised his eyebrow, but Mick faltered over an answer. “You need to loosen up. Stay here.”

Mick exhaled as Arthur turned away, continuing his path to the kitchen. He picked up his pen and quickly finished copying down the last of what he needed before shelving the forbidden book and pocketing his spell. If anyone found out what he was up to he would be expelled, or worse, for certain. He shoved a few packets of ingredients in his pockets before Arthur made it back to the table.

“Here, this should do the trick.” He opened his robe to reveal a bottle of scotch.

“Arthur! We can’t have that!”

“Relax, we’ll do a few shots, fill it back up with water and no one will be the wiser.”

“How often do you do this?” Mick asked, noting his friends unusually cool demeanor.

“Enough.” Arthur answered with a shrug before turning down the hall. “Now are you coming or not?”

Mick chewed his lip as he debated how to proceed, but he found himself following Arthur back to his room. If he played his cards correctly, this would be the perfect opportunity for his plan.

“I can’t do it Mick.” Half of the bottle later, tears ran down Arthur’s face as the confession slipped through scotch-loosened lips. “I can’t stay here. His face, I see his face every time I close my eyes. I can’t stay here at Kendricks. They’re going to kill me for leaving, but I don’t care.” Arthur hiccuped as he leaned on Mick’s shoulder, his fingers gripping the shoulder of his robe so tight that his knuckles were white. “The guilt is worse than any death they could give me.”

“I’m going to help you.” 

Mick removed one of Arthur’s hands from his robe. His mind was slightly fuzzy, but he hadn’t consumed nearly as much alcohol as his friend. He began drawing the sigil he had designed for this spell on the back of his hand. He closed his eyes and willed his tongue to cooperate as he began to recite the words he had written on the folded up piece of paper in his pocket. He poured another shot for himself and one for Arthur, sprinkling the ingredients into the scotch. He reached out and gently shook Arthur off of his shoulder and offered him the glass, and Arthur downed it without question. Mick drank his, gritting his teeth as the burn spread through his veins. Arthur’s sigil and Mick’s eyes began to glow purple as the last few words left Mick’s lips. As the shot hit Arthur’s system he fell backwards on his bed and began to snore softly. Mick gasped as a pain struck his chest, a burn more intense than anything the scotch could cause radiating through his system. It was over as soon as it started, leaving Mick breathless and sweating as he watched Arthur, searching desperately for the rise and fall of his chest.

Convinced they were both still alive, Mick fell back on Alexander’s unused bed. The spell had worked, and not killed either of them. Tears of relief slipped out of the corner of his eyes as he realized that he did it. He had known, the moment Arthur had returned from the testing without Alexander, that if he didn’t intervene he would lose both of his friends, and he couldn’t live without them. He had spent weeks formulating this spell, a spell to stop Arthur from feeling guilt. The hardest part was finding something to bind the spell too, something strong enough to withstand the power of the magic, that would live as long as Arthur. In the end Mick had bound it to his own soul, so as long as he was alive Arthur would no longer feel any of the guilt caused by anything Kendricks forced him to do.

Mick smiled as the clock on the nightstand clicked over to midnight.

“Merry Christmas Arthur.”


End file.
